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I went to a party last Saturday. It was my first real "adult" party. Where people introduce their partners, talk about their jobs, watch what they eat, and, in this particular one, introduce their babies. Well, I never shook hands and made small talk with any of them so I guess introducing is the wrong word. Maybe the babies are just paraded around. And they are well received. We all want our turn to look at the little miracle and we can only hope it will give us a little laugh. We can't wait for them to hold our fingers with their whole hand. Something about growing old seems to make people fascinated by the purity of a young life. 

Suddenly, the inevitable (but for some reason unexpected) happens. The baby starts crying. Incredibly loud, I must add, as if it's trying to get everybody to look at him. Is there anything more natural than the cry for attention? Well, maybe I'm being mean. Maybe he is just hungry, tired, or feeling overwhelmed. I find all of those perfectly good reasons to cry. I'm jealous of him. 

But then, the most fascinating thing happens (well, maybe just the inevitable but for some reason unexpected). Everybody starts gathering around the child. I'm confused by it. I'm sure the parents must want to hide and feel like throwing the little miracle across the room until it's back to its expected peaceful state. So why must all the others interfere? 

I sometimes feel like a crying baby is like an unopened pickle jar. People fight to see who can solve the problem, who will be the hero, who opens the lid, who shuts the hole (I say this lovingly). It's quite strange how much we seek approval of a being that is so new to the world. If we are thinking logically, it doesn't matter how a baby feels about you. It doesn't know morals, ethics, or any rules. I guess that's where the magic lies: we allow this novice in life to tell us whether or not we are good people. 

And don't tell me you don't agree. If a baby chooses your lap, stares, and laughs at you, there's no denying the gratification. Of course, there is an attempt to hide it (aren't we just perfectly humble?) - "Oh I don't know, babies just seem drawn to me" or "I was a nanny once, maybe it can feel it". It's natural. It's human. I, however, like to imagine that babies are just making fun of us. And I like to think that they choose slightly immoral (but aware of it) people to smile at. As if they are in on the joke. The person, struggling with their morality, is confused. 'Why would this baby like me? I'm not worthy of such innocent love'. And they are probably not. The baby just thought it would be funny to make you question it. They move on, still giggling, which naturally makes everybody around smile. They all laugh at your confusion. Good one baby! 

But back to my party...For some mysterious reason, the baby extends his little chubby arms to me. He has chosen me to make him stop crying. I almost see a smirk on the creature's face when it's on my lap. Oh I see, you are doing the irony thing, huh? Well baby, be aware that I'm deeply confident in my morality so you can't hurt me with your elaborate scheme. But he's better than me. And almost instantly he stops crying. He smiles at me. With his eyes which I didn't think they could do at that age. And you know what? I can't help but feel that I'm good. That the little thoughtless thing saw something good in me. And then I think about the logic in it. And realize there is none. He has won the joke. This one will be a comedian! But like everyone else he will volunteer to open a pickle jar, and he'll fail. So I laugh. For the future. When the joke is on him. 

Mari Rech's short story won first prize in the 2024 Humanities & Sciences Undergraduate Writing Contest. Mari is a Brazilian filmmaker passionate about creative writing. She is currently a senior at the School of Visual Arts pursuing her BFA in Film.